


only when the moon rises

by SayHiDestery



Category: Death Note
Genre: Autistic Near, Clueless Near, Its nice, M/M, Meronia, Pining Mello, Russian Mello, Slow Burn, Thai Near, everyone is over 18 chill, matt is alive, maybe? - Freeform, mello is not in drag but he's still pretty sexy, melloxnear - Freeform, near is in drag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayHiDestery/pseuds/SayHiDestery
Summary: Kira has been defeated - now what?  Mello and Near, sharing the identity of L, agree to go on an undercover mission into a human trafficking ring in South Korea, posing as a ring leader and his concubine.  In hindsight, Matt both does and does not regret suggesting the case if only to see Near in drag.





	1. Intrigue

_     “What?” _

__ Mello and Halle engaged in a staredown.  The room around them was quiet aside from the near-silent hum of the air conditioning coming from the vents in the ceiling and the subtle  _ click _ of Near’s metallic blocks snapping together as he played mindlessly beside them.  Mello gave in first, his eyes sliding to the side of her to watch Near for a moment.  He meticulously stacked blocks that resembled magnetic versions of the pieces from  _ Jenga _ .  He stacked them in such a way that Mello couldn’t help but to think of its likeness to  _ Relativity  _ by M. C. Escher.  

“I thought I was very thorough in my briefing.  Do you need me to go over it again?” Halle asked him, her voice purposefully louder than normal so Mello’s eyes would wander back to her.  Mello frowned at her, eyes narrowing minutely.

“I’m not confused by the case, Halle.  I’m confused by why we’re taking on  _ this _ case, of all things,” he clarified as he crossed his arms indignantly across his chest.  

Halle simply sighed, her body visibly sagging that she disguised as slouching forward to weave her fingers under her chin. “Mello, I’m not the one who picked the case.  That was-”

“Me.” Near finished for her, apparently paying more attention to the conversation than Mello originally thought.  He wouldn’t be surprised if he later found out that Halle and Near had gone over all of this before Mello even entered the building this morning. 

Mello turned towards Near, ready to start asking him all the questions until he was satisfied or Near became visibly annoyed - whichever came first, it didn’t matter much to him - but that was the same moment that Matt decided to come slinking in.  He didn’t seem to notice Mello at first as he nursed something that looked suspiciously like an energy drink.  Mello watched as he knocked back the rest of it and then proceeded to crush the can between his palm and hipbone.

That’s about when Matt finally became aware of the world around him and spotted Mello, smiling cheekily as he walked up to the group. “Sup.”

“Hey,” Mello said with a sigh, pulling out a half-eaten bar of chocolate from his coat pocket.  Matt fixed him a smirk, shaking his head.

“Getting briefed on the case?” Matt implored, his eyes leaving Mello’s to attempt to connect with Near sitting at the table next to Halle, but Near was still seemingly focused on his blocks.

“Trying to,” Mello conceded. 

Matt bobbed his head in a nod, tipping his head in as a greeting to Halle.  Halle did the same back, her fingers still woven beneath her chin.

Near finally spoke up after a beat or two of silence, “You have continued to mention that the cases we’ve been taking have either been too low profile or too easy, Mello.  So I asked Matt to dig into L’s files and find something more interesting for the both of us.”

“And you chose this?” Mello asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Well,” Matt stepped in, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his ill-fitting jeans, “neither Near nor I really  _ chose  _ the case, per se.  It was a case that caught my eye - among others - that I sent to him.  It’s a cold case that’s made its way into mainstream media recently.  Not only that, but some Russian government officials have reached out to L about it recently as well.  It chose us, I guess.” 

Mello fixed Near with a feverless glare, looking more annoyed than anything.  He spoke, “And you didn’t think to ask me about any of this?”

Near looked up, finally, immediately meeting Mello’s gaze and quickly enough to make Mello shift barely, but uncomfortably.  “That’s what I am doing right now.  You have every right to refuse this case, Mello - there are others,” Near said seamlessly.  It sounded almost preconceived and that made Mello want to jump off of a building.  This brat thought of just about everything, didn’t he? 

Of course, telling Near that no, he’d rather not do this case felt like a lost battle and he hadn’t been willing to admit any sort of defeat with Near since he caved and conceded to finally work with Near as the second half of the L identity after five months of indignant refusal to have anything to do with either Near or L.

Mello blew out a sigh, shifting his weight onto one leg, “Near, if we’re going to work together, then I need you to discuss these sort of things with me  _ first _ .  Not with Halle or Matt.  Got it?” Near gave him a nod of understanding. “That being said, I’m not opposed to the case.” 

Near stared at him for a long, quiet moment before sliding the file in front of Halle over to Mello, and opening it up.  The first thing on top of the relatively small pile was a picture of a man and woman doing a simple couple’s pose for the camera.  The photo was obviously professionally done.  The man actually bore a great likeness to Mello.  Blonde hair, blue eyes, angular facial features.  Of course, this man didn’t bear the same scar Mello did, but the resemblance was uncanny.  Then, there was the woman.  She was small and slight, very pale with blonde lashes and pin straight, dark brown hair.  Her eyes were impressively dark and almond-shaped with full, pink lips and a thick, leather choker that bore a long chain that attached to an equally thick, leather band on the man’s wrist.

“Who are these people?” Mello asked, lips quirking down in a slight scowl.

Near reached over and pulled the picture back, revealing what appeared to be profile shots of the duo before an autopsy.  In the woman’s picture, Mello could see that the choker had been covering a thick, ugly scar on her neck and that she was wearing a wig in the previous picture.  In her autopsy photo, her hair had been buzzed off cleanly probably a few days before her death.  The man looked relatively unchanged from the previous picture, if only a bit paler and sunken.  

“Their names are Vadim Gilyov and Mi-Cha Nham.  They are known as Roy and Sev Vanka.  Vadim is a Russian underground leader of a human trafficking ring near Omsk.  That’s as far north as this particular ring is known to go.  The woman, Mi-Cha, is not only his concubine/wife, but ruled the ring beside him and even worked to help steal more teenagers out of their homes, or helped to somehow force them into the ring.  She was supposedly a refugee from North Korea when Vadim found her.  They both had a long list of blood following them until this,” Near tapped a finger on the pre-autopsy photos, “when Russian officials captured and executed them in total secrecy.  Vadim had been stealing from the government for a long time - he was a very wanted man.  He and Mi-Cha, or Sev, had very strong ties to central ring leaders in South Korea.” Near looked up pointedly at Mello, exuding an effortlessness that made Mello want to rip his hair out.  Near raised a hidden eyebrow as he asked, “Any questions?”

Mello narrowed his eyes slightly, fighting the urge to clench his jaw.  Near’s eyes slid over to Matt, who was watching the exchange with an unsure expression.  Matt met Near’s eyes and raised a brow at him.  “Did you get the footage?” Near asked.

At this, Matt pinked slightly. “Oh, uh, well yeah… I did.  Bu-, I mean, are you sure you want it, Near?” 

Near leaned back in his seat, looking moderately considerate. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I mean, they just- they have sex.   _ A lot _ .  And I wouldn’t be weirded out by that because I know that a) you’ve seen people have sex on surveillance a la Yagami and his little pixie, and b) you practically embody the definition of asexual, but-”

Near turned his nose up slightly, looking miffed at the backhanded accusation, “My sexual preference, or lack thereof, does not and will never hinder my ability to watch surveillance footage of any flavor, or apply myself as a competent detective in any sense.  L was almost exclusively gay and he did just fine, did he not?”

Matt looked rather deflated after the scolding, fiddling with a cigarette in the pocket of his jacket. “That wasn’t what I was implying, Near.  Regardless, even  _ I  _ am disturbed by some of the footage.  They have, just- their sex is fucking  _ weird _ , Near.” Matt lamented.

Near shrugged, “It’s not like I really want to do this in the first place.  I figured from the fact that she wears a collar near-constantly that they would be into some kind of BDSM.  This isn’t just undercover work, though - I have to portray this girl with-”

“Whoa, wait- you’re going undercover?  As a concubine?  Are you joking?” Mello almost laughed, but didn’t quite get there.

Near - looking particularly frustrated - spun the first picture Mello had seen of the couple in front of him and stopped a finger just above Vadim’s head.  He spoke like he had no patience, “Tell me, Mello, does that face look even slightly familiar?”

_ Yeah,  _ Mello thought blandly,  _ he looks like me.  _  Mello pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging along the bone as though he were experiencing a sudden and intense headache.  Under his breath he groaned, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Matt slapped two hands down on his shoulders, jostling him slightly, “‘fraid not.  You get to be Mr. Pretty Boy and Near gets to be your bitch.”

“ _ Matt.”  _ Mello and Near said in unison, both sounding chastising.  Even Lidner gave him a sour look.

“Damn, relax, the lot of you.  Near is only  _ playing  _ your bitch.” Matt appeased teasingly, raising his hands in a surrender.

“I am  _ playing  _ no such thing, Matt.  Keep it up and I promise you won’t find me very fun to tease anymore.” Near threatened, having returned to his game of block stacking.

Matt chuckled, walking around the table to lean over Near, “Oh, what?  Are you gonna  _ stare  _ me to death, or something?  Gimme a break, Near, you’re like the size of my-” and Matt dropped to the floor.  Mello had been more interested in the case notes than in any of the boys’ banter, so he hadn’t seen what exactly happened.  All he knew was that Matt was suddenly quiet, and then he was on the floor, groaning and covering his lower pelvic area protectively.

Mello stared at the man on the floor, almost in awe as he asked, “Did he just-?”

“Elbow me in the dick?  He sure did… fucker,” Matt hissed.

“I warned you,” Near mumbled, but Mello could see that he was fighting a shit-eating grin.

“When are y-  _ we _ going undercover?” Mello asked, eager to return to the matter at hand.

Near glanced over at Lidner, then to Mello, and then back down at his blocks, “One month.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s the most I can get us right now.  The longer we wait, the bigger risk we run of Vadim and Mi-Cha’s deaths being found out.”

Mello rolled his neck, already feeling exhausted and the day had barely reached a peak yet. “And how the hell do you plan on impersonating a girl?  Your balls dropped, genius.  You don’t sound like a little girl anymore.” Mello took his turn to tease Near, smirking at him.

Near stared at him for a moment before raising a finger at him and lifting a pair of chunky headphones off of the table that were plugged into a tablet off to the side.  Mello thought that maybe Near was taking a call of some kind because he seemed to be listening very intensely, but he didn’t say anything.  He listened for a moment and then took the headphones off, letting them slide down and around his neck. “Maybe, but I can certainly try,” Near said.  At least, it came out of Near’s mouth but that was  _ definitely  _ not Near’s voice.  It was feminine, foreign, and gritty.  It almost sounded like he was trying to speak while pushing out as little air as possible.

Mello stared at him, completely at a loss for words.

Halle chuckled, shaking her head. “Near has a gift for mimicry,” she began explaining, “and we’re going to use that to our advantage.  Anyone’s appearance can be altered to look a certain way, but not just anyone can mimic another person’s voice - especially not of the opposite sex.  Originally, we were going to make Near into a different person entirely - a boy who used to be Vadim’s concubine years ago - but we stuck with Mi-Cha because she’s asian, she’s pale, small, and Near can mimic not only her voice, but her personality and actions.  He just needs to be exposed to her regularly.” 

Now things were making a bit more sense.  Mello cocked a brow at her, then squinted at her as he processed what was being said. “Wouldn’t the male concubine have been easier anyways?”

Halle gave a helpless shrug. “Maybe, but he didn’t have the same value that Mi-Cha did.  On top of that, Mi-Cha has never been seen without Vadim and we didn’t want to raise suspicion.”

Mello looked back down at the picture, his thumb brushing over Vadim’s face. “Yeah, well, how do you plan on covering up this?” Mello asked rather bitterly, jabbing a thumb at his own scar.  

Halle gave him a sympathetic look, but Near was quick to supply an answer, “Simple: Vadim and Mi-Cha were tortured by the Russian government.  That way if the news  _ does  _ get out that they were killed, we can actually fall back on it.  Vadim and Mi-Cha escaped, but the government covered it up so that the people would not think that they were more powerful than the government itself, and so no other wanted criminals got the idea that the government was easy to overpower.”

Mello stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed just barely as though he was trying to make sense of it all.  But finally, he cracked a small grin and gave a conceding nod. “This is stupid,” he grumbled half-heartedly and probably only because he felt he had to, “but it might work.”

Near took that much as a win.  He gave something that barely constituted as a smile, but whatever.  It was the best he was going to give right now.  Near slumped back comfortably into his seat and resumed his building.  They had plenty of time to go over the details later.  Right now, he needed to clear his head.

They only had a month, after all.


	2. Cut

    There was a slight crackle of burning as Matt took a long pull from his cigarette.  He and Mello sat on the roof of the SPK headquarters.  It was late fall and the air was getting colder, but snow had yet to fall.  They lounged in near-silence, simply listening to the city.  Mello bit off a piece of chocolate, letting the confection melt in his mouth.  Right now, Near was several floors below them with Halle, practicing the small nuances that came with portraying a female.  Halle was also outfitting him so he would get used to wearing things other than his favored button up and scrub bottoms.  

    “What’cha thinkin’ about?” Matt asked, his voice slightly deeper as he held in the smoke before exhaling away from Mello.

    Mello watched the smoke fly away, shrugging, “Stuff.”

    “Near,” Matt corrected, laughing when Mello shot him daggers, “if looks could kill.”

    “Who needs looks?” Mello snapped, snatching his gun off the ground between them and aiming it between Matt’s eyebrows.  It wasn’t loaded - wasn’t _allowed_ to be, so long he was in the same building as Near.  They both knew that, knew Mello wasn’t holding it to Matt with any genuine anger.  It was all frustration, because Matt knew a nerve when he saw one and giddily plucked it like a guitar string when he had the chance.

    The gun went down and the cigarette came back up, then Matt flicked his ashes over the side of the building.

    “You’re still so sensitive about him,” Matt said, as though he was surprised.

    Mello scowled, “One of these days, you’re going to slip up in front of him - and then I’m _really_ going to shoot you.”

    Matt only smirked as he stood up, dropping the lit cigarette to crush under the toe of his boot. “But if you did that, you’d have no one left to talk to about your little crush.”

    Mello hooked his foot around Matt’s ankle as he turned to walk off, smirking without remorse as Matt tripped off the barrier and crashed hard on the ground some four feet below.  Mello hopped off after him, hauling Matt back up by his arm.

    “Fuckin’ hate you sometimes,” Matt growled, his goggles now perched oddly on his nose and his hands collected blood in the palms from the abrasions.  Mello only felt a little sorry about it.  Matt wiped his hands off on his jeans, much to Mello’s disdain.  He fixed his goggles and rolled his head around, cracking his neck with impatience.  “Well,” he sighed as if annoyed, “let’s go see how the princess is doing.”

    Ten floors down an elevator and through a long hallway, the duo arrived at what once must have been a meeting hall.  That might have been the intended purpose some months ago, but now the room was almost barren - the chairs were stacked away in a corner with only a small desk and two chairs sitting in the lit area.  Papers and pictures were scattered across the desk and Near sat alone in one of the chairs.  He was lounging, it looked like, with his head tilted back as far as it would comfortably go and his arms folded across his chest.

    Matt raised a finger to his lips, winking at Mello.

    From here, Mello could tell Near was focusing rather hard.  His normally non-expressive face was pinched in between his brows and his jaw was tight; his eyes were shut tight.  His hair fell away from his face, revealing white brows and a forehead that had almost no creases.  Mello didn’t often see Near without all his curly hair falling in his face.  Without the bangs blocking half of his expression, Near looked even younger.  He never did outgrow the baby face, he mused.  He was wearing those chunky headphones again, and a tape player sat at the far end of the desk.

    “What’s he doing?” Mello whispered to Matt.

    Matt patted his pockets for his phone, then cursed softly, realizing he’d left it on the roof.

    “What?  Oh,” Matt glanced across the room to Near who remained entirely unmoved, “he’s probably listening to Mi-Cha’s voice.  It’s the only way he’ll learn to mimic it.”

    “Did you know he could do that?” Mello asked suddenly, quietly.

    “Do what?”

    “Mimicry.”

    Matt paused. “Well, yeah, kinda,” he conceded, his voice just a whisper, “I heard him do it once.  B was bullying him and he did it to throw him off, I think.”

    Mello frowned. “But who did he mimic?”

    Matt snorted. “B.  He threw B’s voice back at him.  Certainly would have thrown me off, if I were him.”

    “Where do you think he learned that?”

    Matt shrugged, sighing deeply, “How should I know?  Quillish told you Near came from some kind of hospital, right?  Maybe he learned it there.”

    And that was true.  Mello had been particularly nosy that day, when he walked into Quillish Wammy’s office like he owned it and rested his chin on a desk he could barely reach.

    _“Where’d he come from?”_ He had asked, all pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows.

    _“Who?”_ Quillish chuckled, indulging the boy as he pushed aside his paperwork.  

    Mello had rolled his eyes, a habit far too old and humorous for his baby face. _“The white one, Near.  He doesn’t look anything like what I’ve seen.  So where’d he come from?”_

Quillish had nodded his head, often forgetting that despite how young he was, Mello had already lived in various parts of Europe.  He inclined his head, his blue eyes always looking clear and much younger than his face reflected.  He told him, “ _Near came from a medical wing in Thailand.  He’s a very long way from home, Mello, so be kind to him, please.”_ He was never given more information than that, of course.  Quillish never gave them information on each other, so Mello was surprised he’d even gotten that much.

    During his mulling, Mello had lost focus.  In that time, Matt had crept over to Near who was leaning back in his seat with his knee caught under the lip of the desk to prevent him from falling.  He meant to call out to Matt to stop him, but by the time he’d made the thought to do so, Matt’s toe was already edging the leg of Near’s chair out from under him.

    Near fell and hit the ground with a metallic _clang_ that echoed through the room, followed by Matt’s laughter.  Mello had to stifle his own laughter, while Near lay still and looking very much like he was in shock.

    Matt stood over him, doing a terrible job of biting back his laughing, “D-Didn’t your teachers ever tell you not to lean back in your seat?”

    With an all too serious deadpan, Near replied, “I never went to public school.”

    Mello walked over to them, shaking his head.  Of course Near wouldn’t know a joke if it pushed him out of his seat.  Matt continued to laugh, but offered Near a hand to stand up.  When he was back on his feet Near twisted Matt’s hand around sharply, forcing the taller redhead onto one knee; his laughing now a pained groan.

    “Why do you continue to annoy me?” Near asked.

    Matt gave him a shit-eating grin. “It’s fun.”

    Near rolled his eyes and let go, righting his chair so he could sit properly again.  Near stopped, then turned sharply to look at Mello as though he was just now noticing him.  The harsh look on his face left over from Matt softened a bit on his round features as they met eyes - briefly, as was any eye contact with Near - before he sat back down again.

    “Are you here to bother me as well?” Near asked.  He was facing away from him, so it took Mello a second to realize he was being spoken to.

    Mello opened his mouth to reply - something smart and snarky, no doubt - but the door opened loudly behind him.  In stepped Halle and Gevanni, both talking in a heated whisper that ended abruptly when they entered.  Halle flashed him a brief smile, nodding at him to follow, “Good, Mello, I was just going to go looking for you.  Near?  You, too.”  She was carrying a black, wrinkled purse that was bulging slightly.  She dropped it on the desk and it sounded like it was weighted.  When she undid the snap on it, Mello saw that it wasn’t a purse at all - it was a large, folded carrying case of knives, some types even Mello hadn’t seen before.

    “While Mello is going to be armed to the teeth at almost all times,” Halle began as both boys prodded curiously at the ludicrous amount of knives on the table, “Near will not have the same luxury.  The only guarantee of clothing that you will have, Near, is that at all times your chest and crotch will be covered; other than that, it’s up in the air, especially until we get an idea of what events you two will be attending.”

    Mello cast a sideways glance at Near, who looked miffed but nodded all the same.

    Halle smiled and pointed to a section of the case, “These are all training knives.  Near, you’re going to spare with me, and Mello with Gevanni.  Then we’ll switch knives and spare partners.  Mello, we’re going to focus on getting you comfortable with different knives and teaching you to fight people who are bigger, more trained, or faster than you.  Near, I know you already have a decent grip on knife-dependent fighting, so we’re going to reinforce that with knives you’re comfortable with, and focus on taking down people who are bigger, better trained, or more able than you, and doing this quietly.  Mi-Cha was very much a black widow: silent yet deadly.”

    “Wait- _Near_ knows how to use a knife?” Matt asked suddenly and as though on the verge of laughing.  Mello rolled his eyes fondly watching his best friend crack up. “A butter knife, maybe.  Are you joking?  He grew up in a hospital and then in a prep-school-slash-orphanage, what kind of deadly weapon could he possibly- holy _fuck_.”

    Mello had either not heard or entirely ignored the sound of the bag opening, but there was no ignoring the familiar _click_ of a knife with a spring assist, the _shing_ of the metal as quick to follow as a breath after an inhale.  Mello could not tell if he found the image of Near holding the tip of a karambit under Matt’s chin terrifying or hilarious, or both.

    “ _Near_ ,” Matt barked, holding his hands up in surrender but still managing to sound pissed, “I get that you are only trying to make a point, are sick of my jokes, blah blah blah - but, one of these days your _point_ is going to accidentally _kill_ me,” he finished with a pointed look.

    “Who said it would be on accident?” Near murmured, entirely deadpanned.

    “Near… that’s not a-” Halle began.

    “Trainer karambit?  I know.  Some dull tip of plastic wasn’t going to make him shut up,” Near finished, giving Halle what would only be considered a toothy grin in Near’s case.  

    Matt grumbled next to him, “I don’t like his idea of a joke.”

    Mello gave him a lame pat on the back. “I don’t think he likes yours either.”

    Matt shot him an unimpressed look as he walked up to take a trainer knife from Halle.  As Mello was returning to Gevanni on the far side of the room, the man held up a hand for him to wait, then crooked a finger for him to come closer.  He lowered his voice, his eyes trained on Halle and Near, “Wait for a second, okay?  I’ve never seen Near fight before, so I’m a bit interested.”

    Mello nodded in understanding.  Same could be said for him; Mello had only seen Near raise his voice a handful of times.  Near had never been violent aside from the odd episode or two he had when he first came to Wammy’s.  Now that he had grown up he commanded attention, sure, was not soft or the like, but he had never been violent by nature.

    Halle broke out in a sprint at Near so sudden and unexpected Mello jumped a little.  Lost in his thoughts, he’d missed her shedding her suit jacket, heels, and tying up her hair.  Near had only unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to just under his elbows.  He didn’t get rid of his socks so they probably had rubber on the bottoms, otherwise Mello would gladly bear witness to Near slipping on the glossy tile.  

    She came at him with a faux chef-style knife, large and probably found in a kitchen.  She held it in her right hand with her fist close to her chest and tried to slash him across the face.  Near took a step back and ducked, side-stepping around her.  Halle was quick to turn and follow, guiding her left hand over her right to catch him in the ribcage.

    “Again,” she said, sounding both out of breath and unimpressed.

    Near held a small training karambit, but this time he stood with his back to her.  While Mello gave him an odd look, Halle thought nothing of it.  She stopped, caught her breath, and charged at him again.  She went to swipe down, aiming to drive the knife between his shoulder blades.  She followed him down as he ducked, but was not prepared for him to drive his shoulder into her gut and splay them over the floor.  She barely caught him on the arm, not nearly enough to call it a win.  They both rolled away from each other, but she was faster to get up.  She had much better legs than he did.  She dove forward with the knife tipped outward to get him in the gut, but he was expecting it.  He took her wrist and pulled her through the momentum, then brought her over his back, slamming her down and holding the karambit so the curve of the blade cradled her neck.

    He stared at her openly, looking almost entirely as disheveled as usual aside from his pupils being blown and the slight glisten of sweat on his brow bone.  She had learned quickly - in the year and a half she had know him - how to read his lack of expression.  At this moment, in him, she could see fire.  She could see (almost hear) it licking up the walls of his chest.  It reminded her of the flames she had found Mello in, a boy so strong and so sure that had screamed in pain in her arms.

    “Halle?”

    His voice was deeper, husky, and a bit ragged between breaths.  She liked seeing him so alive; sometimes it was easy to forget Near bled like the rest of them.  She grabbed his wrist and tipped the blade of her knife up to drive it into his head.  He ducked, but remained at a fixed distance because of the iron grip she held onto him with.  She stabbed at him again, but he flipped the karambit up into a reversed grip, a neat little trick that was as tactical as it was flashy.  The curvature of the blade cradled hers, and stuck them in a match of strength while he pulled on her grip.

    Finally, she let go up him and he threw himself backwards.  He rolled over his head and landed in a crouch, knife flipped back into a normal grip.  She was standing again, her shadow cast over him.  They were both pretending like they weren’t slightly out of breath, but he was actually getting tired.  He stood fine but was shaky at his ankles, which was the first sign of his tiredness.  She crouched down and went for his thigh, hoping to induce some kind of adrenaline.

    And it did.

    She caught a glimpse of his panic, but his calm demeanor was quick to cover.  He tucked and rolled out of her path at the last second, steadying himself with a hand pressed flat to the ground.  She pivoted and brought the knife over his head.  With a slight hop, he sprung up with a grunt and caught her arm, the curve of the karambit once again hugging her neck.

    She smiled at him, “You’re better than I thought you were.”

    He let go and withdrew, only offering her a shrug that probably meant nothing, just a stand-in for an answer to her statement.

    She then noticed Gevanni and Mello watching them, neither with any sort of weapon in hand.  “That wasn’t a show, you know,” she growled.

    While her attitude had little sway on Mello anymore, Halle was still Gevanni’s superior.  The taller man held up his hands and laughed awkwardly, “You can’t blame me for wanting to see you and Near fight.  I’ve never seen either of you so much as raise a fist at anything.”

    Her icy gaze slid past him, to Mello. “Your turn.”

    He chuckled, blue eyes lighting up in such a way it could make anyone’s heart melt. “You want to spar with me now?” He asked, sounding somewhat amused.

    “Not with me,” she shook her head, “with Near.”

    The amusement was just as quickly gone, happy blue eyes turning icy as they rounded on their target. “You want… you can’t be serious.  I’ll break him.”

    “You aren’t going to-”

    “I didn’t,” Halle interrupted, leveling Mello with the same look.

    “ _Halle_ ,” Near hissed, now with authority.  The look he gave Mello was molten and Mello almost laughed.  He’d never seen Near look so insulted before. “No one in this room can break me.  Clear?  Mello, pick something already.” He waved a hand at the assortment of weapons Halle had brought in, twirling a lock of hair around his thumb.  

    Mello and Halle shared a look before she passed him her knife.  He turned it over and over again in his hand, finding it uncomfortable.  It didn’t fit like a gun did.  He walked back over to the table and exchanged it for a faux switchblade.  Near was fixing his sleeves again, standing about two meters across from him.

    They stood square with each other for a moment before Mello frowned pointedly and asked, “What are you waiting for?”

    If Near’s bangs didn’t hide almost half his face, Mello was sure he would be raising a white eyebrow at him when he said, “I’m not the one that can run, genius.”

    Mello berated himself for forgetting that.  It was easy to forget, now seeing just how capable Near was of inflicting damage and likely killing.  That did not change the fact that Near often spent cold weather confined to a wheelchair and could only run for a handful of seconds while enduring excruciating pain.

    “Whatever,” Mello hissed, taking another few steps back.  He took a few calming breaths, clearing his head.  He brought his knife and fist up like he was going to box, as he was most comfortable with.  He gauged the way Near stood, how his body leaned, how hard he was breathing.  Anything that might give a clue to his first move.  When he formulated plan after plan, backup after backup, he ran.

    Between the few long strides it took to get from there to Near, he wasn’t expecting - of all things - for Near to grin his creepy grin at him.  

And that’s how Near got the first hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update! Inspiration strikes me at random moments, so I never really know when I might get a chapter out. Hope this satisfies you guys for a while!
> 
> A/N: To explain some of my headcanons that are relevant to the fic so far: Near's backstory will be explained, but Near suffered physical trauma as a child that caused chronic pain in the joints of his legs and limited their mobility. I also headcanon that he has Hermansky-Pudlak Syndrome. He also knows a few different forms of self-defense, including using a knife and very minor gun training (via Halle). HPS can cause bad eyesight, so if I ever write Near as fighting with his back turned or with his eyes closed, it's not to be "cool" or "edgy". I try to keep my writing as real as possible, but I believe Near hears a lot better than he sees and might be able to use echo location in a fight. 
> 
> That's it for now! Hope you all had a good Christmas and New Years! <3
> 
> UPDATE: NEAR IS THAI, NOT VIETNAMESE EVERYTHING I KNOW IS WRONG AND THE WORLD IS ON FIRE


	3. Listen

    Mello fell down in a chair next to Matt, winded and sore.  The brunet was locked into his handheld, his fingers moving at speeds fast enough to impress any woman.  Mello couldn’t bring himself to care very much, not when he was heaving for air and almost inhaling his water.  Near had unexpected inhuman stamina, apparently.  Mello worked out for upwards of three hours per day, whereas Near he’d never seen so much as pick up a weight.  Every time it looked like Near was getting tired, losing focus, or feeling pain, he shook it off.  Mello could understand doing this once, maybe twice, but Near had been “shaking off” exhaustion and discomfort for almost two hours now.  Halle had even called quits and asked Gevanni to spar in her place.  It was suspicious for a kid that never worked out.

    “Stop worrying about him, he’s fine,” Matt said suddenly.  
     
   “Huh?”  
     
   Matt paused his game and pushed his goggles down to hang around his neck, “Near.  You’ve been staring at him for, like, three minutes.  He’s always been good at ignoring his needs in favor of his desires.”  
     
   Mello scoffed, looking away from Matt and back at the match in front of him, “It’s stupid, not to mention dangerous.”  
     
   Matt shrugged, “Maybe, but it could save his life.  Which is exactly why Halle is letting him do it.”  They both looked to where Halle was watching the fighting pair from the sidelines, arms crossed and face stuck in a serious expression. “She wouldn’t be letting Near purposefully harm himself if she didn’t think it was worthwhile.  You guys only have a few weeks, after all.”  
     
   Mello only hummed in agreement, though he didn’t _really_ agree with the situation.  He fixed his hair idly, most of which had fallen out of his ponytail.  Halle crossed the room in that time to lean against the wall beside him and sigh through her nose.  Even exhausted, Halle still managed to carry an air of etiquette with her.  
     
   “If I’m not worried, you shouldn’t be either,” she said, sounding only slightly more irritable than usual.  
     
   Mello glanced over his shoulder at her as he finished tying up his hair, scoffing, “If I’m not telling you what to do, you shouldn’t be telling me.”  
     
   Halle narrowed her eyes at the back of his head pointedly, sneering, “I’m not nearly as reckless as you or him.  I know quite well how much Near can take - more than you do.  I don’t  see him as the fragile thing you appear to.  He’s fine.”  
     
   Mello turned to fully face Halle, a mixture of surprise and offense on his face as he spoke, “Are you telling me I don’t know my own colleague?”  
     
   Halle smirked and shook her head, “Not at all.  I’m simply saying I know him _better_.” She pushed off of the wall and walked with purpose to where Near lay on the floor mats.  Even from where Mello sat, he could see Near’s thin chest rising and falling with his fast panting.  His head lolled to the side to see Halle approach him, but Mello doubted he could speak, much less breathe.  Halle knelt to the floor and helped him sit up.  He passed her a small object that she shook vigorously before giving it back to him.  Mello heard the spray of the inhaler and gave a sigh - at least he wasn’t too stupid.  He certainly didn’t give Halle enough credit.  
     
   Matt snorted next to him, to which Mello elbowed him in the ribs.  Matt managed to block the shot by inching his arm down, but a sharp elbow to the bicep was still painful and bruise-worthy.  He scoffed, rubbing his sore arm, “Don’t be so sensitive, Mels.”  
     
   Mello stood - blatantly ignoring Matt - and walked over to where Halle was crouched next to Near.  He offered a hand to Near to pull him up.  Near hesitated, but accepted, and Mello could not get over just how _light_ Near was.  Mello could probably pick him up and throw him, if the mood struck him.  Near shook off Mello’s hand and turned to him with an inquisitive expression. “Did you want to go again?”  
     
   Mello sputtered, then laughed awkwardly, resisting the urge to make fun of him because _Near, the implications_ and what not. “No.  What I want is for you to sit down and drink something before you collapse.”  
     
   Near only gave him a strange look, striding past him to the cooler Rester had brought in.  As he passed Mello he said under his breath, “Yes, _mother_ ,” to which Mello shoved him forward roughly by the shoulder.  He’d never admit the small, impish grin he caught briefly on Near’s face made his heart beat a little faster.    
     
   They didn’t do anymore sparring after that for the day.  Near and Halle disappeared for a majority of the day, leaving Mello with Matt, Rester, and Gevanni, even though Rester did plenty of disappearing of his own.  When the evening was coming to a close, Mello stole away to the rooftop for a chocolate break when it became obvious that both Matt and Gevanni were more interested in whatever they were doing on their individual computers than talking to Mello about the case… or anything, really.  He expected it from Gevanni - that guy had a vendetta against Mello from the get go, not that Mello could really blame him - but not from Matt.  However, Matt had seemed to be very wrapped up in whatever he had been doing - Mello couldn’t tell, because Matt’s computer screen looked like a white screen to anyone not wearing his goggles with the polarized filter in them.  

    When Matt first showed him the trick all those years ago, he had realized then he didn’t give his best friend enough credit where it was due.  It was that little trick in particular - removing the polarized filter and putting it in his goggle lenses instead to keep any eyes off his work - that had made Mello decide Matt would be his partner in crime.  And he was… just not right now.  Right now, they were both working on a case that had plenty of innocent lives on the line, Mello and Near’s lives included.

    The sun had began to set over D.C.  Mello sat on the ledge of the roof of the incredible monster of a building the SPK ran out of and enjoyed this private moment to himself, ignoring his own hurt feelings at being ignored.  He chose to ignore that in order to enjoy the brief moment of peace and quiet, or as close to it as he could get.  Funny enough, despite how little any of the SPK talked individually, they had this way of being loud and chaotic as a group without making much noise at all.  It was only three people bustling around Near like he was the sun and they were merely planets in his orbit, throwing out ideas and questions and answers like shooting stars or meteoroids.  It was overstimulating, honestly, and Mello wondered how Near wasn’t the same heap of nerves that Mello typically was after a long day.

    He pulled the half-eaten bar of chocolate from his coat pocket and snapped off a piece in his mouth, holding it between his teeth on a breathy exhale before pulling it completely in and letting it melt on his tongue.  The air was cooling down as the year was coming to a close, showing him his breath when he exhaled and chilling his insides when he inhaled.

  
   The introspective moment passed and the chill in the air chased him back inside to wander aimlessly until sleepiness settled into his bones and stole him away to bed.  Despite being early, the sky had been dark for a few hours now and Mello wasn’t going to pass up sleep if it found him early.  

    However, on his way back to his room, Mello passed through the main control room.  It was empty, aside from Near.  He was tucked into a metal fold-out chair with the chunky headphones on his head, his head propped on his knees as he watched something on a laptop.  Curious, Mello approached from behind and peeked around Near to see he was watching surveillance footage of two adults - a man in a long black trench coat and a woman who wore close to nothing - make out on a gigantic bed.  

    “Did you need something Mello?” Near asked, quietly, the stillness of the room still mostly preserved despite him speaking.  When Mello didn’t answer, surprised, Near pushed down the headphones to hang around his neck and looked at Mello quizzically.  
     
   Mello blinked owlishly at him.  “Um.  I was heading to bed, but I saw you… I wanted to see what you were doing,” he explained bluntly.  “How’d you hear me come in?”  
     
   Near took the headphones off and set them aside, his face scrunching as he stifled a yawn. “It’s surveillance of Sev and Roy, and it doesn’t have any sound - that’s how I heard you.”  
     
   Mello cocked his head, a hand resting on his hip. “Then why the headphones?”  
     
   Near shrugged, looking away from him. “I like the pressure; helps me focus.”  
     
   Ah, right, autism.  Mello could almost see the letters from the textbooks he had drilled into his head when he found out Near was such in a desperate attempt to understand his rival a bit better.  Not that Near needed to know that.  
     
   “You look tired.  You should sleep while you can,” Near said, his voice lilting in the closest thing Mello ever heard him to making a joke.  It was sweet and light-hearted, even if it was barely there.    
     
   “Oh?  Shouldn’t you do the same?” Mello countered.  
     
   Near snickered under his breath. “I slept two days ago.  I can go another day.”  
     
   “Near, you just sparred for hours and did multiple other tasks with Halle today concerning that Brusali case you’re working on - is that finished, by the way?  You should really pass it off to Matt, if not.  You’ve got enough to focus on.”  
     
   Near’s head tipped back, the front of his neck stretched taut and Mello tracked the subtle movement of a _very_ subtle Adam’s apple working.  Every detail of Near’s masculinity and progression into adulthood was subtle and took multiple sets of eyes to catch.  He still looked so young, to Mello, despite four years between their last meeting at Wammy’s and first meeting during the Kira case.  
     
   Near’s eyes stayed closed as he spoke. “It’s done, Mello.  I submitted it to the district attorney assigned and hopefully there will be no revisions.”  
     
   “Good.  Then, go to bed.”  
     
   “No.”  
     
   Mello sighed and looked at the ceiling, blowing his outgrown bangs out of his face. “Insufferable as always.  Don’t give me the stink eye when your _mother_ comes to carral you back into your cage, Near.”  
     
   Expecting a snarky reply or long-suffering sigh, Mello was surprised when Near let out a low chuckle, exhaled mostly through his nose and sounding particularly… _attractive_.  Mello stifled any and all train of thought that might have tried to take off on that note, like he lined his mind with TNT and let them rip in close succession.    
     
   “I won’t.  Good night, Mello,” and just like that, Near ended the conversation on his terms - like always - and brought the headphones pointlessly over his ears again.  It felt like a period in the middle of a sentence, abrupt and out of place.  
     
   Mello rolled his eyes and strode up behind Near, reaching over him to close the laptop in his face.  Near looked up at him, his long hair brushing against Mello’s exposed middrift and Mello looked down, his hair hanging around his face like a curtain.  Near took off the headphones slowly and just _stared_ at Mello, his habit of fleeting eye contact absent in this moment where he met Mello’s eyes and held it.  It was intimate in a way that made Mello uncomfortable, but he held eye contact simply to spite that.  
     
   “Please, go to bed.  You need it just as much as I do,” Mello insisted.  
     
   Near’s head was tipped back so far to look at him, his mouth was forced to part to accompany the stretch.  His eyes were big and round, staring into him with no fever and he still felt like he was burning.  What he wouldn’t give to be able to lean down and _fuck-_ He stopped.  His knuckles were white under his gloves as he gripped the back of the metal chair.    
     
   “Okay,” Near said in an almost-whisper, like he was afraid of disturbing the peace formed between them.  
     
   And, of course, that’s when Matt threw the door open - probably expecting the room to be empty - and waltzed in with an unlit cigarette hung between his lips.  Upon spotting them, though, he paused, assessed, and snickered, “Whoops, my bad.  Did I interrupt a moment?”  Mello gave him a look that Matt was certain would kill him if looks could do such things, but Near remained staring up at Mello a moment longer before he drew himself out of the chair and closed down the laptop.  However, before it shut down, Matt got a glimpse and grinned wickedly, “Oh- _ho_ , my bad, you lovebirds were watching _porn_ together?  How roman- _tic!?_ ” Mid-sentence, Near whipped around and threw a dart with practiced ease.  It would have been a harmless throw, if Near didn’t practice with _real_ darts that were _really_ sharp, or if he’d thrown it softly instead of like he was betting half his life on nailing Matt between the eyeballs.  “ _Seriously_ , Near?” Matt hissed.  
     
   Near was already out of his seat, a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth as he gave a noncommittal hum, “Hm.” He paused at the door and called over his shoulder, “Good night, Mello.”  
     
   “Night.” Mello called back.  And then, he was gone and off to bed, leaving him with Matt grinning like the Chesire cat. “Not a word.”  
     
   “Did you kiss him?” Matt asked cheekily, completely ignoring him.  
     
   Mello sighed. “I’m going to bed.  You’re exhausting.”  
     
   “Aw, c’mon.  Did you chicken out?  Seriously?” Matt groaned, loud and lovingly.  
     
   Mello groaned in return, but it was long-suffered. “ _Bed_ , Matt.”  
     
   “You took him to bed?” Matt asked excitedly in return, nearly bouncing in place.  
     
   Mello threw his hands up and took a deep, calming breath.  Then, he looked at Matt and lost all of that composure because Matt was grinning at him like the handsome devil he was.  “I’m leaving.  Good night, Matt.”  
     
   “Night, lover boy.” Matt called in return with a well-meaning chuckle and pulled his handheld out of his pocket.    
     
   Mello chose not to comment and left the room, entering the hallway quickly after Near, but heading in the opposite direction he assumed Near went - not that he knew exactly where Near slept.  He lumbered into his room, his body stiff and sore and foregoing a shower in favor of stripping out of his clothes and falling face-first into bed.  He slowly wiggled his way lazily under the thick, rich blankets and sheets.  His scar had long since stopped burning, but the silk sheets still felt like the relief of cool water over a fresh burn.  He sighed pleasant and nuzzled against the pillows.  Normally, he didn’t sleep in the SPK building, but Near and Halle had made sure Mello felt welcome and knew he had a room to stay in.  And now, when he was too exhausted to drive back to the apartment he had all to himself, he was thankful.  
     
   He closed his eyes and could feel the tendrils of sleep wrapping around him when his phone buzzed next to his head.  He groaned into his pillow and peeked one eye open as he opened his phone via thumbprint and squinted at the screen.  There, he found a text from Matt: _Forgot to show you, but your boyfriend looks **damn** good with Halle playing dress up with him._  
     
   And to Mello’s surprise (and approval) there was an attached picture of Near with his hair in a ponytail - it was getting rather long - with his hands folded atop his head while Halle stood behind him lacing the ropes of the corset of a strapless black dress that ended at Near’s mid-thighs.  He looked a bit silly, what with his scrub pants and socks still on, but also incredibly pretty with the black accenting how pale he looked and his raised arms automatically flexing the bit of muscle Near had.  

   Mello grit his teeth, saved the picture, and went to bed with the thought he mind that he would thank Matt immediately after smacking the shit-eating grin off his face he was _sure_ Matt was wearing this very moment.  He couldn’t blame him, though: Mello was obviously weak.

    Mello sighed, flopping on his back; very weak, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy. Fucking. Shit.
> 
> To any of you reading this that have followed it from when I posted it back in... what? March? THANK YOU. It is because of YOU and ONLY YOU that this story is getting an update. All your comments and messages brought back my passion and inspiration for this story. So thank you, thank you, thank you for supporting me and inspiring me. I can't convey my appreciation.
> 
> As always, you can find me @prinxe-destery or @whoisnateriver on tumblr!


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